We give it a week's worth
by Frehior
Summary: They didn't really address the situation. Not over night, at least. But eventually, they talk about it, and Alexander makes it obvious he desires something more with Thomas. Thomas? He might need some time to come up with his answer. /:. Follow-up to 'Let's try something new', although it's not necessary to read it beforehand.
1. We give it a week's worth

_Thomas Jefferson/Alexander Hamilton_.

 ** _WE GIVE IT A WEEK'S WORTH._**

 **Summary:** _They didn't really address the situation. Not over night, at least. But eventually, they talk about it, and Alexander makes it obvious he desires something more with Thomas. Thomas? He might need some time to come up with his answer._

** **THIS IS A FOLLOW-UP STORY TO "** _Let's try something new_ **"** **. I** t's not mandatory you read it before hand, but it provides some background.

* * *

 _A week's worth_

"It's 8 a.m." Thomas says, but he doesn't move from his place, stays as still as he can, his index fingers twisting around each other as he looks nervously from the clock that's hanging on his wall to Alexander's face.

Calmly, Hamilton says, "I know," as he doesn't move from his current position.

And that's that. He doesn't ask for an explanation. He clears his throat and brings his knees to his chest, wraps his arms around them and lets his chin rest in them. He's self-aware of the situation he's in, aware of how he's dressed, of the things that have happened in the lapse of time between yesterday and today; aware they have yet to properly address their situation, and that they've shared a bed after mutually agreeing to resting before talking. He's aware of Hamilton's eyes glued to his body, and he's aware of the heat on his cheeks as he steals a glance to look at Alexander's smile.

"How did you sleep?"

Thoughts racing at the simple question, he exhales heavily, looking at his bed sheets, hand reaching for the covers so he could bring them around his body. He's not used to the familiarity in which he's caught, nor is he used to having Alexander close, being civil— being _caring_. Which might be why he feels naked and exposed, not physically, he's not, but he can't help feeling like he's bared his soul to the young man. Alexander's laugh catches his attention and he looks at him curiously.

"If you're not comfortable you can always put on a shirt and pants. I won't mind it."

But Thomas can't find it in himself to stand up and change his shorts, or put up something over the flimsy and torn shirt he has put on from the night before, too comfortable in it to even move. "I slept well, thank you, A… Alexander."

He's hesitant about using Hamilton's name. He's used it many times before, called him by his first name. And yet, with this new context, in a more friendly and intimate manner… he's never done that, and he's unsure if he should be doing that.

"I'm glad."

Thomas watches in silence as Alexander smiles wide at him, moves away the hand that had been serving as support for his chin and rolls to his back, adjusting the covers to the level of his chin, glowing with the warmth that surrounded him.

"I never thought of you as a shy or nervous man, Thomas."

Huffing, and feeling the sentence as some sort of taunt, he sticks his chin up high, looks down at Alexander as he replies, "I'm in my own house. There's no need for me to put up my defenses, I'm comfortable not keeping up the attitude I carry to work."

"Oh, I see."

"And I believe you'll be understanding enough to leave if I ask you to. I'm under no desire to defend myself from anything that upsets me."

Snuggling closer to Thomas, Alexander nods to himself. "I will. I didn't come here to upset you. But because I wanted to, well, provide an answer."

They both smile at each other, snickering at that. "I would like to discuss things with you, still."

Alexander hums and presses his face against Thomas' thigh, and slowly lets out a deep breath. "Your bed smells nice, you know. You smell nice. I'd totally get used to sleeping here."

And the cocky smirk he's giving him, the mischievous glint on his eye has Thomas laughing and his stomach twisting in nervousness, and once again his fingers find themselves gliding around the soft locks of Alexander's hair, earning a kiss to his cloth-covered skin.

"You sound an awful lot like you think you've got me."

"Excuse me, good sir?" Dragging himself from under the covers to sit next to Thomas, Hamilton looks at him in a faux expression of hurt. "I thought my love confession from yesterday would be enough, I put so much emotion and thought to it, after all."

Theres a moment where Jefferson doesn't respond, looks at him with an amused smile on his lips as he thinks about what's just been said. He could get used to these sort of joking comments, devoid of venom meant to mock the other in a spiteful and derogatory manner.

What happened the night before is suddenly in the forefront of his mind, and he blurts out: "You kissed me."

A faint pink colors Hamilton's cheeks, and seemingly conscious of what he'd done, he scoots away from Thomas in what seems to be a reaction to his own embarrassment.

"I did."

"And now you're telling me you... love me, Alexander? _You_ love _me_?"

He's beyond confused, his emotions and thoughts in turmoil. _Love_ was a strong word to use. He'd never use it lightly when it came to a person, and whether Alexander used it lightly or not stood unknown to him. So he's wary of the whole situation, unsure if Alexander's "answer" is something that's meant to be serious or not. He's not sure he'd like to spend a few nights in bed with him, only to break it off whenever one or the other got bored.

He didn't want to be a thing of the moment. Although not really wanting to start a relationship right off the bat, he doesn't want to be fucking around —quite literally— just to spice up their dulled relationship.

"Perhaps my way of approaching the matter was wrong all along." Says Alexander, voice flat, and Thomas can feel himself growing anxious and panicky at the ' _what-if_ 's, at the thought of Alexander going back on his words, deciding maybe a relationship with Thomas was something he actually didn't want. "But it doesn't change the fact I still feel something for you, Thomas."

"Like previous loathing and now annoyance towards each other?" It's a pitiful attempt to calm his nerves, to gain a sense of something he's used to, something he's shared with Hamilton so many times before. He's aware he's trying to connect with the way they'd argue before, point out how much they hated each other's views, how opposed they were. Pitiful, really, how he was afraid to step into unknown territory. He chastises himself silently for that.

"I mean, you're not wrong there, although I believe more emotions are on play as of now. But, anyway, you wanted to discuss things, didn't you? Lets stop beating around the bush and go with it. Quoting you: " _On with it, or leave my house_ ", right?"

Pushing down the urge to say no and bide his time, Thomas agrees with him. Hamilton pads through the bed to sit in front of Jefferson, crossing his legs and resting his hands on them.

"So, anything you'd like to ask or talk about?"

Focusing on the task at work, he shoves away any insecurities that might be nagging at his thoughts, and pulls the covers off him, opting to seat like Alexander, try and ease himself to open up to him, look less like he's with his guard up and not pull himself back.

"You come here, Alexander, uninvited, say you've got things to discuss. I allow you in, and you point out to the way our dynamic in the past weeks have been lacking in something. And you claim you've got the answer to it, right?"

A quick nod from the younger man, signaling he's understood what he's said so far.

"And there I was, wondering what could bring back that _spark_ back. Because we both agree that some times, it's fun to shoot back ideas to one another. And your answer comes in the form of a kiss. You've just told me there are feelings for me, yes?"

"Feelings I'd like to explore alongside you, if you're willing."

"Is it sexual?"

Hamilton seems to be taken aback by the bluntness of the question, but Thomas simply waits for his answer. He has to know. Has to weight the options to see what he's supposed to do, what he wants to do.

Coming back to himself, the Caribbean shrugs, eyes glued to his own hands for a second. "If… you're willing to explore that down the road, I'm all for it." Then he looks at Thomas, hopes he can convey how sincerely he's talking, "But I'm not about to force it upon you if you don't want to."

"Are you seeking a serious relationship with me?"

"Once again, if it's not something you'd like, I won't press further. But do not expect me to drop all my emotions and just carry on. I might flirt with you, or simply stick more around you."

"But would you want one?"

Without missing a beat, he says: "Yes. Without a doubt, Thomas."

Now it's Jefferson's turn to stay silent, and he bites the inside of his cheek, holding back a smile. The way his heart flutters in his chest and his thoughts spin make him dizzy, and he sighs as he counts to ten in his head, slowly.

"Alexander, I would like to take my time to get more comfortable with you. Don't get me wrong, we're practically as close as we can get, with our previous — _or current?_ — relationship. But getting affectionate with you…" He frowns, thinks for a way to express his thoughts.

He was willing to admit that the idea of getting affectionate with Hamilton exhilarated him to no end, as well as it made him incredibly nervous. He, with Alexander Hamilton? A ludicrous idea if you had asked him months ago, when they were still so intent of getting at each other's throats, tear through each other's ideas. But right now he can't help how giddy the thought makes him.

After a dragged silence, Hamilton offerssome helping words. "A whole new experience?"

"A whole damn new and scary experience." Thomas agreesin a small whisper, smiling nervously at Alexander, hoping he took no offense in the way he decided to express himself.

"I agree. I'm not hoping for an all-smile relationship." Hamilton says, smiles cockily at him and leans back, holding his weight on the palms of his hands. "But I'm, y'know… I'll give it a go, as long as you let me try."

Thomas' smile widens as he notices his nerves. As much as he was trying to play it cool, the obvious way Alexander's gaze would flicker somewhere else, and the obvious smile about to form before vanishing from his lips was a death giveaway, a clear expression that he didn't know what to do with himself. And the way he licked his lips to wet them…

"I guess… can we give this a week's worth? Let me think things through. Not to get your hopes up or down, but I'd love to explore the idea without the pressure of arelationship. Give me a week to think it, and you'll have an answer." Thomas says, turns around the idea in his mind.

"Do know this is not something that I came up with at the moment, Thomas." Alexander begins, his voice quivering a bit, and Thomas' interest is peaked by it. He had never seen Alexander Hamilton hesitate or doubt his words this much. Not when it came to something that involved them both, at least. "I'm serious. I've been entertaining the thought of asking you out for some time now. But it wasn't until yesterday night that I mustered enough confidence to act. I guess I was just afraid of what would come, and— and… I don't think I can go and keep ignoring what I feel for you."

Thomas smiles gently, feels himself honored to have Alexander present his insecurities and emotions, thinks it must be hard for him, since not long ago showing a vulnerability in front of Thomas would have been a sure way to get mocked and belittled.

"One question, though."

"Yes?"

Alexander clears his throat as he sits straight, cheeks acquiring a pink hue. "May I… Would you allow me to court you as the week goes by?"

Thomas blinks at him. And blinks once more. Because he's unsure what's the point of that. But also because Alexander seems so flustered by the petition that makes him wonder just how deep did the man's feelings run for him, how shy could he turn around him when those feelings were on the surface. It was almost… cute. Endearing. And a little bit off-putting how now the thought of making fun of such behavior didn't pop in his mind. He was so used to seek anything that could destroy Hamilton that the fact he hadn't considered this put his thoughts on halt.

Remembering Alexander is still awaiting an answer, Thomas clears his throat, and gives a small nod of his head, "Of course. I don't see why you shouldn't. I… guess I'd feel honored to be at the end of your attention." Smiling shyly, he added, "A less toxic kind of attention, I mean."

The Secretary of Treasury laughs at that, and one of his hands find a way to gently hold one of Thomas'. "I—I'm sorry if I ever gave you more attention than necessary." Jefferson's lips turn upwards, and he wants to wave the apologize away. He had done just as much as him. "But, rest assured—" he gives a light squeeze to the bigger hand in his, "— I plan to make up for that."

The smile that blooms on Thomas' lips is big, "Good," he shifts his hand to grab Hamilton's, entwining their fingers for a brief moment, before an undesired thought kicks his mind. "But, uh. We _should_ go to work."

"Right. Work." He scrambles off the bed, and smooths down his clothes. "I'll… see you there?"

"I don't see why not."

An adorable blush spreads over the short man's cheeks, and he quickly splutters an answer as he walks back towards the door that leads out of Thomas' room, picking his coat off the chair he had left it in the night before. "Of course. Right. We work on the same place."

"See you there, Hamilton." The aforementioned man directs him a small smile, and stops at the doorframe, brown eyes locking with Jefferson's own.

"A week, then?"

"A week, Alexander."

And with one last smile, his guest slips away from his room, closing the door behind him. Thomas lets out a heavy sight once a minute or two pass. What had he just gotten himself into? Dragging one hand around his wild curls, he shakes his head. The idea of dating none other than Alexander Hamilton made his insides clench with something he wasn't quite sure was anxiety, nervousness or eagerness.

Getting out of his bed to get ready for work, he wonders just how hard would it be for them if he accepted Alexander's proposition. Surely shifting from their past relationship to a new one would have its own tribulations. Habits didn't die as easily as one would like. And Thomas was sure their relationship so far had been a string of habits that mounted to a toxic rivalry. He wasn't sure it'd be easy to just pull themselves from that apparent routine.

Furthermore, he barely knew Alexander on a personal level. They barely did know each other, never speaking about personal matters on the other's presence. And it wasn't like they shared views on multiple topics. They were bound to start bickering at one point or another. He would accept, thought, that he could see on many occasions where was Hamilton coming from. His angles might not be the same as Thomas', but Thomas did appreciate a quick and sharp mind such as Hamilton's. And truly, despite tearing at his ideas for what seemed like ages, he would admit there was some sort of respect he had towards him.

Perhaps they could find middle ground?

He had a week to figure it out, see what could he ask from Hamilton, and see what sort of attention he might receive from him. Mind you, he wasn't really expecting a big change. Wouldn't know what to do with if suddenly Hamilton stopped being, well, Hamilton, as Thomas knew him. He likes him enough as he is, just enough for Hamilton's presence to be bearable, and at times enjoyable. He also knows he can't really bent his own ideas and thoughts to appease Alexander's fiery nature. He won't do that, and he hopes Alexander won't do either— he does expect, however, for them to not go at each other's ideas so viciously.

He keeps his thoughts to himself, though, and puts up his usual facade before stepping out of his house, psyching himself for another day of work.

* * *

.

So yeah, you could say this fits better as a 2nd chapter to **_Let's try something new_**. BUT! I always meant for that story to be a stand-alone/one-chapter. I'm only developing it more because _a) I love it_ (I love me some nervous Thomas) and _b)on AO3, notchason & hamiltoninthebathroom gave a little nudge to the story so it could move forward._

Anyway! I hope you enjoyed it :)


	2. As courtship goes

_**WE GIVE IT A WEEK'S WORTH**_

 _ **Summary:** Alexander's first courtship attempt comes as unexpected and surprising to Thomas. Nonetheless, it's a beautiful detail that has him realizing a few things._

* * *

 _As courtship goes_

.

The next time he crosses path with Hamilton, he does his best attempt to not act strange.

"Hamilton." He greets him, as they both walk up the stairs that lead to their given floor. The elevator had been out of service for the past days, and they had no other option but to take the stairs.

"Jefferson." Directing him a smile, he adds, "I hope you're having a good day so far."

Thomas huffs his amusement, and nods, "You could say that. It hasn't been displeasing, I can assure you."

"Happy to hear that."

"How's your day been so far?" Thomas thinks to himself that this sort of interaction is nice, in spite of it feeling a bit too formal.

"Oh, it's been _great_." Alexander answers, not stoping to meet Thomas' eyes even when the man stays back for a few passing seconds as he kept his spluttering to a minimum, cheeks ablaze.

It doesn't take long for Thomas to climb the necessary steps to keep up with Hamilton. "That's… good. I'm glad."

They reach their floor sooner than Thomas would've liked it, and he has to remind himself to keep up his facade, to not crumble under the growing uneasiness he's feeling.

"Well, here we part ways, Thomas." Hamilton says as they stop for a brief moment at the end of the stairs. "I hope you'll enjoy… your receiving at your office."

Thomas doesn't have time to question the meaning of his last sentence —barely has time to actually think it's an odd way to formulate his sentence— as Alexander is already turning on the spot, walking toward his office. He shrugs to himself and walks towards his office, trying not to think of what could be waiting for him in his workplace. When he opens the door and gets sight of it, his mouth falls open at the surprise and beauty of the gift.

 _Flowers_.

Alexander had somehow filled his whole desk with flowers. He is quick to close the door as soon as the initial surprise passes, not wanting anyone to get sight of this. Gingerly walking towards his desk, he admires the colorful bouquets on it, his hand moving so he could run his fingers across the soft petals.

Thomas laughs to himself, and shakes his head as he looks around the office for some place where he can move the flowers.

Softly, he tells to no one, "He's crazy," because he can't come to think how had Hamilton managed this, when he had had to go to his house to shower and change clothes. But somehow, the man had enough time to buy this ridiculous amount of flowers and deliver them to his office, with apparently no one noticing it. And somehow, Thomas can't help the warm emotion spreading over his chest at such lovely gesture, "And so am I."

He can't explain why the gesture has him feeling so blessed, or why he can't help but think of Alexander's wide smile and soft eyes, looking at him. The thought of the kiss the night before has him pushing out his breath out of his lungs, hoping to take away some heat from his face.

Then fear rushes to him as he think about what is he going to do with the flowers. He can't just take them to his house. People would see. People would talk. He wouldn't do good with the stares and whispers. He doesn't want to be object of gossip. The low creak of the door opening has him turning fast enough to get whiplash, and at the sight of Alexander, Thomas forces a smile on his face.

"Alexander."

"Hey…" He responds, closing the door behind him and walking towards the desk. "I hope you've liked it."

"Um, yes. It's… lovely."

Alexander steps closer to Thomas, and he tilts his head to one side, looking worriedly up at him. "What's wrong, Thomas?"

"Nothing. All's good."

Though he had attempted to make his voice sound firm, Alexander can clearly see the distress on Jefferson's face, and he gently takes his hands between his, smiling at him. "Hey, if you didn't like it, you can tell me."

"It's not that. It's just that people…"

"Oh, right." Of course Thomas would worry over that. Alexander had worried about it, too, and had already formulated a way to make this look as nothing but a mistake. "Don't worry. Later on someone will come to pick them up, claiming they've made a mistake in the delivery. I was hoping they could deliver them to your house…?"

Thomas lets out a sigh of relief, thankful that he won't have to lie his way through this. "I would like that, yes. They're lovely, Alexander." He reiterates, his tone more sincere than before. "I really like them."

"I'm glad you do." The smile that's drawn on his lips is blinding and contagious, and Thomas is soon smiling too. He gives a squeeze to Thomas' hands and brings them up to his lips, leaving a quick kiss over the back of them, "I'll be more thoughtful of future details. Sorry I hadn't thought about how you'd feel." He lets go of Thomas and begins to walk backwards, "Notes taken. Don't worry."

Thomas rubs his palms together, resisting the itch of touching the back of his hands, where Alexander's soft lips had left a lingering sensation. Hamilton stops at the door and after some seconds of silence, he speaks up.

"Have you checked the note yet?" Thomas' confused look is enough of an answer, and Alexander opens the door, "You might want to read it." He says, before he leaves Thomas alone with the silence of the room.

The note itself is not hard to find once Thomas has rounded his desk, and he picks it up, taking seat.

 _Dear Thomas,_

 _I must apologize (for selfish reasons, I admit, as I don't desire any guilt hanging on my conscience) for any way my behavior might be taken as rude yesterday night and today's morning, as that wasn't my intention._

 _This is my first attempt at courting you. And I hope you'll allow for there to be more. I admit it might be too forward, and too soon. But as I walked home, I passed a flower shop and couldn't resist myself. I was instantly reminded of your beauty and softness._

 _With best regards,_

 _Alexander Hamilton._

Thomas feels the smile tug at his lips, and he allows himself to read the note two more times before tearing his gaze away from it. He leans back on his seat and presses the note against his chest, his head thrown back as he looks at the ceiling.

" _He thinks I'm beautiful._ " He whispers to the room, and closes his eyes to embrace the emotions running through him.

Maybe he could invite him over for dinner, or maybe they could go out somewhere else, where they had privacy and could speak as much as they wished, so they could know each other further. He wouldn't mind spending some hours with him, talking about everything and about nothing, because that's how they went. They could be speaking of anything, their mouths moving until soon enough they'd be be throwing ideas back and forth. Maybe dating Alexander Hamilton wouldn't be a bad idea.

Reminding himself that he's at work, and that he shouldn't be fawning over Hamilton's note, he stands from his seat, placing the note there. He picks up a few bouquets so he can move them the sofa on the side of the room, and he handles them with care, not wanting the flowers to become battered. The motion is repeated some more times, until all the bouquets have been safely moved to his sofa, only a few petals lingering on his desk.

He moves to pick them up, and also gather the one that had fallen to the floor. They're soft to the touch, and he can't help but remember Hamilton's scrawl, telling him how he viewed Thomas as soft.

"I'm not soft…" He mumbles to himself as he leaves the petals on a drawer in his desk.

Picking up the note so he can gracelessly fall against his seat, his eyes are drawn to it once again.

I was instantly reminded of your beauty and softness.

He frowns and tries to come up with an explanation as to why would Hamilton think that of him. Or why had he decided to express himself with that particular word. He's not soft, is he? If anything, Hamilton's the one that's soft. With his somewhat round and soft face, and the way his soft lips turned to the most beautiful smile in such a soft and lovely way, as if showing appreciation. Or the way that his big eyes looked at him, with such a soft expression, as if Thomas was his object of affection and—oh… _oh._

So Hamilton had been serious back then. He hadentertained the idea of asking him out. That did explain the sudden way he'd call Thomas name, only to trip over his words as his cheeks turned red, his sentences coming out mumbled. The way he had frowned on those occasions and left with a " _Forget it_ " had always made Thomas think Hamilton was simply looking for a fight, before remembering how that didn't give the usual thrill as before. He had never thought that maybe, just maybe, Alexander was trying to ask him out, or speak about his emotions.

He knew that this week was for Alexander to court him, but nonetheless, Thomas feels like he should do something for him, too. The idea of inviting him to share dinner pops in his thoughts again. So, taking a deep breath, he decides that he'll do that. He'd just needs to figure out the time and way to ask him.

He really wants to get to know Alexander better. Would love to do so.


	3. It's a date, then

_**WE GIVE IT A WEEK'S WORTH**_

 ** _Summary:_** _Somedays later, Thomas finally has the opportunity and courage to ask Hamilton to dinner at his house._

* * *

 _It's a date, then_

.

Alexander, true to his word, had been more thoughtful when it came to his future gifts and affections. And in the following two days he'd given Thomas plenty of gifts and notes, all methodically put so he'd be the one to find them.

After the first display, he'd gone back home only for the flowers to be delivered half an hour later. Now they were all making his living space more lively. They were enough to decorate his place plenty, the sight of flowers welcoming him in every room he entered, a constant reminder of Alexander's feelings towards him. The note he'd written laid on his nightstand, at hand's reach if he ever felt like reading the sweet words.

Although now, in the fourth day, his chest ached in the good kind of way whenever he thought of Alexander. He'd look at the gifts given to him, and he'd find a gentle smile on his lips. There was a small pile of notes on the drawer of his nightstand. They weren't anything big. Barely anything after the first note reached its length, Alexander opting for minimal writing such as:

' _Hello, Thomas. I've written this to let you know that a day has lapsed since my last courting attempt. And I want to tell you something: you're one of the prettiest men I've laid my eyes on. And you're cute._ '

' _I thought you might be hungry_ ', when a lemon tart awaited him in his desk when he returned from his bathroom break after he'd skipped lunch hours to favor getting ahead of his work.

' _I thought about you last night and let me tell you, you've certainly taken away some minutes worth of sleep. It's okay. I wasn't planning on sleeping in any of those occasions. But you're a constant when I close my eyes. It's actually a lovely sight in my mind._ '

' _There's as many flavors as there are parts of you that I love. Well, significantly less flavors._ ' Regarding a small box that contained 7 truffles with different flavors each.

' _Update: you're cute as fuck._ '

' _Spoilers: this has such a sweet-filling. Almost as sweet as your smile._ ' And the filling of that pastry had been sweet, but not overly so.

' _Update 2.0: you're cute and hot as hell._ '

And all of that was okay. Thomas had warmed up to the idea of notes addressed to him, of small gifts being left over his desk. It was probably easier to calm his nervous thoughts of _'what if someone else finds them before me'_ after Alexander had shared a table with him in their small lunch break, happily chatting his excitement to Thomas, asking what did he thought of him leaving him notes on places that Thomas frequented, and if Thomas would rather Alexander stop that.

Thomas had seen the excitement and glee shine on those brown eyes and hadn't been able to tell him to stop. Because Alexander seemed to be rather happy doing that. Who was Thomas to deny him that small slice of happiness? Besides, it wasn't like he didn't particularly enjoy what Hamilton was doing.

So in the fourth day of the week Thomas has taken to think things through, he finds out the man has decided to step up his game.

"So…" Alexander begins, entering Thomas' office without knocking. Thomas doesn't complain, as long as the door is closed so there wouldn't be prying eyes. "I was thinking today we could… uh, try something else?"

Thomas quirks an eyebrow, and stops what he's doing to focus his attention on Alexander. "' _Else_ ' being…?"

"Getting to know each other better?" He tries, standing still in front of Thomas' desk, hands drawn back. Thomas is vaguely reminded of the night Alexander had stood before him, just moments before declaring he had an answer to solve the dulled situation of their relationship.

Thomas leans back on his chair, and allows a small smile to grace his lips. "I was actually looking forward to addressing this. I'm glad you have presented the opportunity."

"Oh."

"I was planning on inviting you to dinner. My house. What do you think?"

Alexander holds his breath at the question, cheeks heating under Thomas' gaze. Not a trace of nervousness or hesitation on those eyes Alexander has come to love so much. He silently commends the way Thomas' able to keep his facade at work, and feels slightly envious. He'd never been to good at keeping his emotions at line. "I think… I would love that." Thomas smiles at him, "But—", and the smile falls off those lips, brows creasing together, "—I, uh. Was actually going to invite you to my apartment. Maybe a restaurant if that isn't so out of line?"

Jefferson sighs and stands from his place, making Alexander take a few steps backs, heart racing inside his chest at the thought that he had suggested the wrong thing.

"Alexander," the seriousness on his tone only makes Alexander's nerves rise more, and the young man's eyes deviate to the floor as he feels too ashamed to look at Thomas. Thomas speaks again in a softer tone, "Alexander, look at me." Silence stretches over them, and once the order is followed, it's broken, "I offer my house because for the past days, you've been really charming. And really, I had been thinking on how to approach you with the matter. I _want_ to know you better. And I want you to know me better. It might be too much to ask, but I'd rather let my walls down in a place I feel safe."

"Oh, shit. _Right_." He smacks his forehead lightly, and nods his head in understanding. Of course. "Yeah. Sure. To-Tonight?"

"Tonight sounds good, yes." Then, on a lighter tone, he adds, "If you can get yourself to part ways with your beloved work, that's it."

"Pff, it'll be hard, but I assure you I'll find a way…", for a moment, he hesitates on his following words, but ultimately decides to speak with a cocky grin on his face, "Anything for you, love. I'll be there by nine. Is that okay?"

Deciding to let the pet name slip, Thomas nods his agreement. "I'll be waiting for you, then."

"It's a date then." Alexander chirps happily, before his mind catches up to his mouth and his whole face reddens. "I mean! Not like— It's not a date, date. I'm not pressuring you to anything. That's not my intention. Oh my god am I pressuring you, Thomas? Because I don't want you to think I—"

Thomas laughs, and moves his hands in front of him, trying to get Alex's attention. "Relax, Alexander. It's… it's fine. Don't over-think it. We have a date." Hamilton's eyes widen a fraction, before a shy smile forms on his lips. Thomas finds it adorable. "Now go on your way, Alex. Better finish whatever work you've got left so you can join me at dinner. Don't be late for our first date!"

Thomas has a feeling that his answer by the end of the week will most likely be yes; and as he gives it a brief moment of thought, he can't really come up with any reason so far as to why would he say anything but a resounding _yes_.

* * *

.

Sorry this took too long to post (for what little might be worth, lol). I hadn't noticed almost two months had passed since the last update! But with school and whatnot, I barely had any time to seat in front of my computer.


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